


All I Have

by LORBEERPRINZ



Category: Star Driver: Kagayaki no Takuto
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LORBEERPRINZ/pseuds/LORBEERPRINZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shingo Makiba had come to Southern Cross to find himself. But instead, he found a man who would soon determine his fate. [Tokio (Head) x Shingo]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m pretty sure nobody else but me ships this *cough* Well, in any case, I kinda like Shingo and because there is only so little known about the character as such, I made my own assumptions. Because of this, please be aware that a lot of the things mentioned in this fic are not (neccessarily) canon and are based on either my personal headcanons or the way I interpreted what Shingo said in episode 24 (after waking up). I'm trying to make as much sense of the little bits we have as possible, but of course I can't do that without adding some things myself, mostly when it comes to Shingo's backstory. In fact, I think he's an interesting character to talk about (which I am always open for), I'm really sad he didn't really have much screentime in the anime, which is one reason why I'm writing this fic in the first place.

Unlike so many others, I had been born outside of Southern Cross Island. My family had never talked much about this island, the Cybodies or anything else and I was left without any knowledge for most of my life. When my mark surfaced, I was abandoned.  
I travelled to Southern Cross at the height of my loneliness, when I had no idea what else to do with my life. Everywhere I went I had felt as if people would look at me and instantly knew I was different from them in every aspect – my face which had never corresponded to my actual age at any stage of my life, my somewhat fragile body, my strange dreams that only weirded friends out when I talked about them, the kind of people (that is, men) I tended to fall in love with. As a result, there was a point at which there was nobody left around me anymore.

I came to the island in hope to find out more about myself, maybe even a cure for the nightmare I felt I was living in. I had managed to get a small job at a strange society that was concerned with research about some underground ruins.  
I don’t even know how I had managed to get this job, I’m not good at many things. Maybe they somehow realized I carried a mark.

On the day of my arrival, I missed the bus from the port up to the city.  
I had to walk up all the way along the only road around the island. The good side to this was that said road runs along the coast, with a beautiful view of the beach and the sea.  
That’s where I saw it for the first time.  
There was a lonely canvas standing around on the beach that seemed to belong to no one. It was kind of strange, so I took a closer look.

I was instantly captivated by the painting presented before my eyes. I didn’t understand much about art, but this picture was rich and lively, portraying the setting sun with a beauty and vividness even photographs could never reach.  
It almost took my breath away.  
I don’t know for how long I marveled at it until a voice brought me back to reality.  
“Seems you like this one. That’s good!”  
A young man walked up to me, paintbrush in his hand. His confident smile and deep purple eyes appeared to shine with a certain radiance I couldn’t quite explain. It could have been the light of the evening sky, or it could have been just him.  
But in any case, I was just as quickly captured by his aura as I was by his artwork.  
“I wasn’t quite satisfied with this one yet, so I was looking around for new angles right now. But by the look on your face I guess it does have some good points already.”

I didn’t know how to reply, just continued to watch as he continued to paint. I had never seen anyone paint before. The way he moved his brush over the canvas, every stroke filling the picture with more life. He was careful with his strokes, setting them precisely where they needed to be to bring more color into this little world.  
After a few minutes he turned back around to me and eyed me from head to toe. Only now I realized how weird it must have seemed to him, being silently watched by a stranger like this. I was ready to apologize, but he was faster to speak up.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around this island. You’ve got all these bags… Are you a tourist?”

“Uhm, no, I… I’m going to work in the ruins from tomorrow on, so I just moved here today.”  
I felt my face heating up for some reason, but also couldn’t help but notice how the expression in his face slightly changed as I mentioned this job. He had been really relaxed before, but now he appeared more alert, interested.  
Despite it all, his smile stayed.  
“I see… I know a few people from there, it seems like an interesting workplace. I’m a little jealous.”  
He laughed, and I laughed with him, as I had no real idea how else to react. My face still felt hot.  
“Are you walking to town? That’s quite a long way, you know…”  
“Well…” Another nervous laugh from my side. “I missed the last bus, so…”  
His purple eyes grew with slight surprise, but still smiling.  
“Oh, but there’s another bus going up to the city. I think it doesn’t stop by the port, but if you walk for a little more there should be a bus stop where you can wait for it.”  
He showed me the direction in which I should walk, more with his brush than his finger, and I noticed the spots of dry paint on his hand. For how long had he already been working on this picture?

I thanked him, took my belongings and got on my way to the bus stop. I didn’t get very far before he called me again.  
“Would you tell me your name?”

I turned around to see him bathed in both the rays of the setting sun and the hard shadows such a scenery could produce. The shadows accentuated the sharp features of his face, making it almost look sinister. I couldn’t help but wonder how old he was.  
I almost forgot to give him an answer.  
“Ah, I… my name is Shingo Makiba.”

A moment of silence between us, only the waves of the ocean created a sound. I didn’t know what kind of answer I expected.  
“Sounds nice. I’m Tokio Tsunashi, I hope to see you around here some more. Actually, I think I would like to paint you. You’re really pretty.”  
Again, I felt my face growing hot and I turned around quickly in hope he wouldn’t see me blushing. It had been quite a while since someone had complimented my looks. And ever since I had noticed something was wrong with me and the way my body was, I had felt strange about such comments. But his face and how the hard shadows had softened made me feel he was genuine.

I thanked him again and walked off quickly. This was not the most polite way, but I couldn’t help it at that moment.  
Tokio was right, I found the bus stop and after a bit of waiting a bus arrived that took me to the town where I could finally move into my apartment.

* * *

 

The days after that were mostly filled with work, and myself trying to get accustomed to my new surroundings. Once again, I felt like I was constantly watched, as if people could tell I was different from them. Of course this was true to some extent, as I was essentially an outsider from the mainland.  
At this point, I didn’t yet know what lay below this island. My workplace was on the surface, doing this and that, running errands. Only specialists were allowed to enter the mine that lead to the actual ruins.

I used my first free day to explore the island some more. I came to like this place as such, it was beautiful and had a gorgeous view at the starlit sky at night. Having grown up in a big city, I had never seen so many stars before.  
When I reached one or several higher outlooks scattered around the island I hoped to have an even better look at the nightly sky.  
Instead, I found him.

I immediately recognized his frame.  
His hair, his size, the way he moved, everything had subconsciously burnt itself into my brain the first moment we had met. I had not seen him since that first day, and I was happy to see him now.

He seemed deeply concentrated on the picture he was painting, so I approached him as silently as I could. I watched as he continued to add stroke after stroke, creating more of this small world with each one.  
When I had come close enough to see what he was painting, his movements slowed down, but never stopped.  
He did not look away from the night scenario on his canvas once.

“It’s been a bit since we saw each other. How have you been doing so far?”  
I smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. I really liked his voice.  
“I mostly worked so far. This island is quite different from where I come from, but I like it.”  
Tokio put his brush away and stepped back a little from his picture. He looked up into the sky full of stars. Not a single cloud dared to spoil the view.  
“A fantastic sky, isn’t? You don’t get to see this anywhere else in the world.”

He finally turned to face me.  
“Huh? You just said you like it here, but you don’t look very happy to me…”  
I swallowed. He was somewhat right, but it was hard to admit.  
“Ah, I know, some of the people here aren’t too welcoming to outsiders. They tend to prefer to stay within their own company. Well, they do have their reasons mostly, so don’t mind it too much. It’s hard at first, I know that.”  
He came towards me, one step closer with every word.  
“You mean you’re not from here either?”

Tokio came to a halt and smiled.  
“No, I’m an outsider too. But there’s something I have to do here.”  
His smile seemed to vanish for a moment, and suddenly it was as if he had trailed off into nowhere. His eyes looked past me, but seemingly into nothing, or maybe it was the darkness of the night.  
A moment later, it was as if nothing had happened and he proceeded on his way towards me.  
I backed off a little, out of surprise and because I felt how my face grew hot again. I didn’t even really know why I was so flustered by his presence.  
“Could it be that it’s the same for you? Nobody comes to this island without a purpose. And you work in the ruins, don’t you? By any chance, do you happen to carry a mark?”

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but before I could react, he had already extended his hand and ran it across my chest.  
I don’t know how he did it, but I felt a strange warmth crawling through my body, towards my chest and to the outer layers of my skin. I had felt this before, and had come to hate it in hindsight.

There it was.  
This glowing representation of the heat I had been feeling. The manifestation of my nightmares.  
The first time this thing had shown itself on my body, my mother had cried. The second time it appeared, I had been left behind.  
I noticed how I had begun to slightly shake.  
“I’m sorry, this… I…”

But Tokio just smiled.  
“There’s no need to apologize for something this wonderful. You don’t seem to know much, but that’s okay, there is no reason to be afraid.”  
His gaze was fixed on my chest. It was almost as if he was trying to grab my mark and pull it out of my body. At that time, I didn’t yet understand why.

The glow disappeared, and so did the heat. I was relieved.  
Tokio, however, seemed to be a little disappointed. He retracted his hand and placed it back into his pocket. Like during our first meeting, he examined me from head to toe, I felt the intensity of it in every pore of my body. The darkness made it hard to follow the movement of his eyes.  
I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly, he turned his back on me and walked back to his canvas. He picked up his brush again, continued to bring life to the scenery on his painting. The colors seemed to glow like the actual stars up in the sky.

“You should consider yourself lucky to have this”, he said and I wasn’t really sure if he smiled or not, I couldn’t really see it. The atmosphere was very strange suddenly.  
I wanted to argue with him. After all, what did he know about me and my mark? The endless pain and tears it had brought me, the sleepless nights I had had because of it, he didn’t know any of this.  
He should be the one to consider himself lucky. He was normal.  
In the end, I decided against it, I didn’t want to risk losing the only person on this island that didn’t seem to treat me like I didn’t belong here. I thought about his words a little more. I really didn’t understand why I should feel lucky or special or anything other than unfortunate, but he was the first person that didn’t think of me as weird or wrong. I didn’t want to let go of him.

I excused myself and took my leave.  
He turned back to me and this time I could surely see him smiling. “Good night, Shingo.”  
I smiled back. I felt more warmth inside my body, but this time it felt nice. I liked his smile.  
“Good night, Tokio.”


	2. Chapter 2

In the following weeks, I saw Tokio from time to time, and he began telling me more about that mysterious “mark” existing within my body. He taught me about Cybodies, their abilities and the fact that I must probably possess a “first phase”. Looking back on it, he only told me the very basic things, keeping most of the more crucial information to himself. Back then, I didn’t even know why he knew all these things, but in the end, I didn’t even care. I was happy there was someone to finally explain to me what had been going on with me ever since my childhood, to make me realize that I was, in fact, neither weird nor alone with this.  
Of course, we talked about other things as well. I began to entrust everything to him, without ever getting something in return. I didn’t even want anything in return. I was fine as long as I could be with him.

I knew Tokio had other friends as well, I sometimes saw them all three together around the town or at the beach. He spent much more time with them than with me, but I didn’t want to get between them. They all seemed to get along so well and my place was not among the three of them.  
Besides, I feared he might back off from me if I got too clingy.  
I didn’t want to be abandoned again. Tokio was all I had.

Nevertheless, we met more and more frequently and there came a time where I couldn’t deny anymore that I had never met a person in my entire life whose presence I had enjoyed more. I felt save with him, understood and trusted and just normal.  
Sometimes we didn’t even talk and I just watched him paint for hours and loved every second of it. He never spoke about his other friends and I never asked about them. It was better that way.

* * *

  
After a few months had already passed since my arrival on Southern Cross Island, I had finally managed to accommodate to the daily life there for the most part.  
I came back from some shopping I did as early in the morning as possible on my free days due to the soaring heat of the summer, and I found that Tokio was waiting for me in front of my apartment.  
I was surprised, as I had never shown or told him where I lived. It just never felt like a necessary topic yet and my fear of getting too close to him for his own comfort had prevailed until now.

It seemed like he supposed I was still asleep, trying the doorbell several times, stepping back, attempting to look through a window. He had his painting materials with him in big bags.  
As I approached him, he turned around, fast to smile.

“Oh, there you are! I thought you were sleeping. It’s your free day, right?”  
I have no idea where he knew that from, but maybe from his friend who was working in the island ruins as well. Just that in contrast to me, he was doing actual research.  
I smiled back and nodded. I had never expected Tokio to show up in front of my door so fast and I tried to fumble my keys out of my shopping bag while he kept on talking away cheerfully.  
“You know, I wanted to go and finish a painting, but it would be rather lonely, so I figured you might want to come along.”

This was the first time he had actually invited me to be with him, all the other times had just been either incidental meetings or I had looked around the island in search for him for hours. He had never actively come to me before.  
“Let me just put my stuff away”, was the only thing I could utter as an answer as I finally managed to open my apartment door. I actually didn’t feel all too well showing him this place; it was incredibly small and crammed and lacked any order. But he said nothing about any of these aspects and silently followed me into the kitchen, where I attempted to create some lunch boxes for us with what little materials and talent I had at hand.  
I could feel him watch me closely, just like he always did when he wasn’t busy painting. He seemed to register every single motion of mine, piercing through my body and soul. It wasn’t the first time that I realized how nervous it made me to feel his gaze upon me.

I hurried and probably made the most terrible lunch boxes ever, but Tokio did not seem to mind much and we went off.  
Southern Cross Island had a sheer uncountable number of beautiful spots to discover and I was sure Tokio had painted each and every one of them already. But we still managed to find a place he was interested in, even though it seemed like it had nothing to do with the picture he was just working on.

But to be fair, that didn’t really matter to me. I liked his paintings, but what I liked even more was him, his sole presence.  
Tokio was all I needed.  
But I could never tell him that.

When evening had arrived, we sat together on a small bench, watching Tokio’s latest picture from afar as the paint was drying. It had a marvelous scenery with a beautiful rainbow and an equally beautiful woman. Well, at least I supposed the woman was beautiful, because all the viewer got to see was her back.  
But I was sure it was impossible to be not beautiful when Tokio painted someone.

Tokio watched his work with a satisfied smile on his face.  
“That’s another one done. This place is great, the island and the people are quite inspiring.”  
He turned towards me and I realized how close he suddenly was. I swallowed, as I could feel my heart beginning to beat faster than it should. Frantically, I tried to avoid eye contact.  
I couldn’t let him know.

“How about I paint you next?”  
I remembered how he had said so on our very first meeting, that he wanted to paint me. But he had never talked about it again and I couldn’t quite get why on earth he would want to paint somebody like me. He had plenty of other people around him that could and surely would model for him.  
I laughed nervously. “I don’t think I’m suited to be your model, actually…”  
“Oh, but of course you are!”  
He raised a hand and let it run through my hair, played with it.  
When I dared to look at him, I found a very soft smile, painted in the brilliant orange of the setting sun. He was probably more fascinating than anything he could ever paint.  
“Believe me, you’re really beautiful. I like beautiful people.”

I felt his other hand on mine and before I realized it, he had closed the last bits of distance between us for a kiss.

I lost track of how long the kiss lasted, but it seemed like eternity.  
An eternity just for us two.

When we finally broke apart, I realized what had happened. I drew back from Tokio a few inches, almost jumped off the bench. My head was so hot it felt like it’d explode any minute, my chest was heavy, heart about to jump out of it due to beating so fast.  
I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look him in the eyes. But somehow, I knew he was smiling again, because he nearly always did. I should be happy about all this, but somehow, I was not. Something was weird, dream-like.  
Not reality. This couldn’t be reality.  
I could hardly speak.  
“I… I didn’t think you would be like that…”  
He laughed, the same relaxed laugh I had heard so often now and came to like so much.  
“As I said, I like beautiful people.”

He turned away from me to look at his painting again. As I did the same, it came to my mind that I had seen the woman on the picture before. Thinking straight was a little hard at this moment, but I was sure she had been in at least one other painting of his I had seen him working on. Surely, she was of some sort of significance to him.  
“But… what about her…?”  
“Ah, she’s my muse. A wonderful muse, but don’t worry about that.”

Without any further word on the topic, Tokio got up to examine his painting closer, to see if the paint had dried enough already. He started packing his work utensils together in what little light the almost disappeared sun still cast on the island.  
I kept sitting on the bench, watching him, hoping to finally calm down. It was hard to think. On the one hand, it was like my wildest dreams had come true, and I admit I had dreamt about Tokio before. That was how I had realized I had seriously fallen for him. But on the other hand, it seemed like something was wrong about this. Tokio had never appeared to me as someone who would accept me on this level.  
But I was still unsure if I should tell him. Maybe it was too early, maybe he would not want something like that. In fact, I couldn’t really make out why he had kissed me to begin with, he had never seemed to have any interest in me like that. I had never told him I like men, so he had taken quite a risk here.  
As long as I didn’t know what he was thinking I just could not tell him. I didn’t want to lose him.  
Tokio was all I had, no matter our relationship.

We didn’t talk much on the way back into town. Maybe Tokio had noticed how awkward this move of his had been. Maybe he regretted it.  
He followed me back into my apartment for no reason, or so I thought at that point. I was unsure about how to proceed, it had been long since I last had fallen in love with someone, and even longer that someone seemed to return my feelings. And ever since I had started living on my own, I hadn’t even taken anyone with me either, especially not on this island.  
I had come here to learn about myself, not to find a partner.  
Not that I would mind it, though.

Unfortunately for me, this whole situation made me extremely nervous and I stumbled through my apartment like a little teenager, probably looking incredibly stupid. Tokio never said a word, just laughed a little from time to time when I tried to quickly clean up a bit and just made a bigger mess than my place had been before.  
In the end, we were in the small kitchen again, trying to find something to eat.  
I went through my fridge, but couldn’t find anything that wasn’t premade meals. I was a bad cook, so I mostly trusted in the fast food industry. Not a really good thing to serve when the person you love is around, but I had no choice in the end.

I eyed one of the packages, wondering if Tokio would like it, but before I could actually ask him about that, he pushed the fridge door close and took the meal out of my hands.  
His deep purple eyes met mine, I felt his breath on my face with every word of his.  
“What if we skip dinner and I’m just going to devour you?”  
A terrible line in hindsight, but Tokio was this kind of person that could make everything work.

He kissed me again, but it was different this time.  
Deeper, more intense. Hungry.

I threw my arms around him, basically melting into the kiss.  
We stumbled backwards in an awkward dance until Tokio ended with his back to the kitchen wall. He held me close, continued to lead the kisses, skilled tongue playing with mine.  
My mind went blank, there was nothing I could think or say or do, other than clinging to him, trying to keep up with his pace. Everything felt hot, a nice kind of heat, but slowly becoming unbearable. This was different from anything I had ever felt, nobody had ever managed to make me become like that.  
Tokio was incredible.

When we drew apart for some air, he grinned at me and began to play around with my pants with one hand. I looked down between us and saw the bulge in my trousers, which was almost embarrassing. I couldn’t even remember the last time somebody had touched me there.  
“You’re really fast”, he whispered, “Amazing.”  
I would have probably blushed, but the heat in my head was so big already that it was surely red all over anyway. I couldn’t even react to Tokio’s statement in any way, nor to anything else he did. I had completely given myself over to him, body and soul.  
We continued to kiss and somehow managed to maneuver ourselves through my small apartment towards my equally small bed. It was definitely not made for this sort of activity, but good enough for now. I wouldn’t have noticed whether it was too crammed or uncomfortable or anything anyway.

Until today, I don’t know if this was Tokio’s first time with another man or not.  
But in any case, for me, it was probably the best night in my life.  
I had never felt like this before.

It was already noon when I woke up the next day. I had overslept.  
I couldn’t find Tokio anywhere, his clothes and bags were gone. Even though I had wanted to at least make him some breakfast.  
I found a short letter on the kitchen table, scribbled onto the back of some old envelope I had left lying around.  
Even his handwriting looked like art.

 _Good morning, Shingo!_  
_Unfortunately, I have to leave already, but the sunrise is amazing today and I just can’t leave that unpainted, I’m sure you understand. You seemed kind of worn out last night, so I didn’t want to wake you up. Your face is really beautiful when you sleep._  
 _I’ll contact you soon_.

_R._

The way he had signed this letter, the big, curvy R, was the same way he signed his paintings. I knew it was short for his pen name of sorts, but I found it weird that he used it here as well.  
I sat down and looked at the letter for some longer. The last night came back into my mind and I had never felt so happy before, but also never so confused at the same time. I decided to ignore that, because now it seemed like I had finally found someone to give my heart to without regrets. No matter if Tokio really had any feelings for me or not, I did and I would always do.  
Tokio was all I had.

Tokio was all I needed. 


	3. Chapter 3

Tokio stayed true to his words and came back to me a few days later and from there on, our meetings steadily increased. In fact, he would now seek me out more often that I would more or less accidently meet him around the island. He came to ring my doorbell in the evenings and stayed over night and I saw him painting less and less. I thought he might have some sort of crisis and was almost worried, and also a little sad because I actually liked his paintings so much, as well as seeing him creating them. But on the other hand, I thought, maybe all artists needed some time off their work and I happily provided him distraction from it.  
I still hadn’t learned much about him and his past other than what he had told me at the very beginning, but as he educated me some more on the nature of the marks, he slowly began to reveal some more things about himself. It still wasn’t much, partially because we were busy with other things, but at least something. I learned that he had fallen out with his family – although he didn’t want to tell me any details – and resided on Southern Cross to study the ruins and origins of the Cybodies on his own. Of course, this still wasn’t the whole truth about his involvement with this research organization, but I didn’t know that at this time.

  
All in all, Tokio was closed up as always, revealing information only if he really had to, and only in small bits. I didn’t urge him about anything, though. We may have gotten closer, but it felt a little strange.  
I still didn’t know how he felt about me. He said he liked me, liked my presence, my beauty and all, but I couldn’t tell if his feelings for me went any deeper than that. On the other hand, I was still not ready to tell him how I felt, that my love for him had grown even more.  
I had arrived at this point where Tokio was more important to me than my own life.

 

This almost made everything painful.  
Our meetings were in private, closed up, and thus felt more like an affair than like a relationship. If it had ever been a relationship to him to begin with. At that time, I didn’t even know that it was indeed closer to an affair than anything.  
Of course he couldn’t tell anyone about this, I understood that. Back in these days, our relationship would have been frowned upon, and if Tokio was in the process of building up a name as an artist, any rumors or badmouthing would put an instant stop to his career.  
Little did I know at that time that he didn’t care at all.

 

His daytime was still reserved for his other friends.  
Sometimes I still saw them all together in town, but the air seemed different. Before, they all three had been warm, shining. They had all been so radiant.  
But now, for some reason, the picture of them felt colder, as if they had all put some sort of distance between each other. From what I could tell from afar, they laughed less.

 

Sometimes I walked along Tokio’s house after work, wondered if it was alright to knock at his door. I had never seen his house from inside.  
Often, I could see through the large windows he had in his atelier or whatever it was, saw canvas after canvas lined up and him in between. And most of these times, he was not alone, there was this woman too. The pretty one, his friend, his muse. Sometimes, she was naked.  
I couldn’t help but starting to wonder how he felt about me. Each time I saw them together, the pain in my chest grew. I wanted to be in her stead, I wanted Tokio to paint me, I wanted to walk by his side. When we parted in the mornings, I felt terrible, I didn’t want to let him go.  
After all, he was all I had. I didn’t want to lose him.

 

I finally had to tell him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Usually, we ended up in my bedroom sooner or later during these meetings. I think the only time it didn’t happen was when I got sick and hadn’t been telling Tokio beforehand, and while he still spent the time with me instead of going home immediately, I couldn’t help but feel like he was disappointed.  
But this was really an exception and even though I can’t quite say if he had come to be with me more than with his other friends, we were together quite often, and ever since that first night had broken the ice, so to say, we were being intimate a lot.  
It almost felt like an actual relationship, even though I was very aware that it wasn’t.  
But it was the best time in my life.

 

On one of those evenings in my bedroom, I ended up sitting on his lap after a passionate round of kisses. Tokio’s kisses were always amazing.  
He began fumbling with my shirt, unbuttoning it bit by bit to let his hands and lips run across my chest. His fingers came to rest just below my collarbones and seemed to draw something onto my skin with invisible paint. I had no idea what he was doing, it seemed like a letter, but then I realized it was my mark he imitated.  
It reacted unexpectedly quickly, the heat I had wished to forget forever returned and a bluish glow filled the room. It almost hurt.  
It had been a long while since it had surfaced the last time, during one of my first meetings with Tokio, and I had still no idea how he managed to make it appear. I could do that too, if I concentrated enough, but I never wanted to. And him being able to do this to me felt weird, as if I had no control over my body. He said I wasn’t strange, but that was not true at all.

 

Like back then, he looked extremely infatuated with it, he touched the place it appeared on, but ultimately couldn’t grab anything. I could see the mark’s shape reflected in his eyes, he didn’t even really look at me anymore and the blue glow mixed with his purple eyes to turn everything into a very intensive shade, as if Tokio’s eyes themselves glowed.  
I winced, I didn’t want this to be here anymore. The longer this scene kept on, the worse I felt.  
I remembered moments of my childhood, my family looking down upon me, shouts, laughter, panic.

 

I took Tokio’s hand to push it away from the mark. He sighed.  
“It’s so beautiful… you should be proud.”  
I just shook my head. He had no idea, there was nothing to be proud about. I squeezed his hand, feared I would lose control over the situation, and over this thing.  
“Please…”  
It was his turn to shake his head now, laughing a little. “Don’t worry. Remember what I told you? Calm down, concentrate, and you can control it. It’s a part of your body, it will listen to you.”  
Once, when he had been teaching me a little more about all these things like marks and phases, he had shown me how to take control of my mark, to make it appear and disappear, but I had never really trained this. Despite all explanations, I didn’t want to remember I had it.  
I wished it could get rid of it somehow.

 

I took a deep breath, tried to calm down as Tokio had said. I imagined how the mark would disappear, how it would feel if the accompanying heat left my body and the room would get darker again and it worked. The mark slowly faded away.  
I left out a big sigh of relief, but also saw how Tokio seemed disappointed. He leaned back, his gaze left my chest and trailed off into nowhere.  
“Really… I fail to understand why you hate it so much…”  
He leaned back until his head ended up on the windowsill behind the end of my bed, painting his hair and face in shadows as the setting sun didn’t reach this house anymore. I don’t know what he was looking at.

 

I swallowed.  
“…and I don’t really see what you think is so great about this. I hate it…”  
It was actually the first time I had put my displeasure with it into words. There was more to it, but I didn’t want to bore Tokio with my life story any further. I had done that enough on earlier meetings.  
“I envy you”, he said, almost whispered, “you were born with this, it fell into your lap, so to say. I’ve spent years on end with the promise of getting one just to receive nothing after all…”

 

That was a surprise.  
I had no idea Tokio came from a marked bloodline too, although it posed a reasonable explanation about his vast knowledge when it came to Cybodies and everything. In fact, I had wondered before already, but had never found a good moment to ask him. But now I didn’t need to do that anymore.  
I didn’t even know what to reply. He didn’t even wait for a reply.  
“My father drilled me all throughout my childhood, he put me through hell. Training, he called it, yeah… I was supposed to inherit his mark one day, but did that ever happen? No. I went through all of this for nothing.”  
That explained his conflict with his family, why he had left them to come here. Through the shadows of the evening, I saw the bitterness in his face and heard it in his voice.  
“He didn’t even give me a reason…”

 

I couldn’t quite understand why he was so angry about this, why he wanted a mark so much, but on the other hand I felt kind of bad for him. He had been training for years in preparation and was left with nothing. And then there was me, who had one of these marks and never wanted it.  
What if seeing this mark hurt him more than me, just like it hurt me to see this girl at his side?  
“I’m sorry…”  
He sat up again, finally faced me. He wore one of his usual, confident smiles, which made no real sense to me.  
“No, don’t be, it’s not your fault. You’ve just been born with something you don’t want while I’m left without the thing I wanted. But know what? I believe we don’t have to accept that. We can change our fates, and for that I’m willing to do anything it takes.”  
I wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to change his fate into at that point. In fact, I would never really get to know that, he never told me what his actual plans were and when I knew what was going on, it had already been way too late. Back then, I had never imagined what kind of extreme steps he would take.  
Back then, I just wanted to believe in what he said. I wanted to believe that, like him, I could change the way my life looked like. I could feel his ambition, his libido itself seemed to embrace me.

 

I sighed.  
“I wish I could just give you my mark, then we’d both have what we want…”  
He looked up to me, into my eyes, raised his eyebrows. He seemed delighted, his smile even brighter.  
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”  
He let one of his hands wander up my back until it reached my neck, pushing me down slightly until he could kiss me.  
“In fact”, he continued afterwards, “I think it might be possible. I need to ask around a little first, but I know just the right person for that.”  
I hadn’t expected that. It had just been wishful thinking of mine, without any thought that it might actually be possible. But imagining that it could work made me quite happy, and I even went as far as thinking it could bring Tokio and me even closer to each other. Maybe, if I managed to fulfill his great wish, he would finally love me wholly.  
I would do anything to achieve this.

 

Another kiss. His hands went back to working on my shirt until it was off, while I removed his.  
Somehow, the conversation before had managed to raise the intensity of the atmosphere, or maybe it was just me being happy about the prospect of it all. Getting rid of my mark, making Tokio happy, this was more than I could have ever dreamed of.  
“I pray it works”, I whispered between kisses. Again, he smiled at me.  
“This is nothing some gods can influence. But I’m sure we can.”  
He pushed me backwards until I lay on the bed, fingers busy with my pants. More kisses followed.  
The night was great.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, I woke up alone as usual.  
I wished that at least now, after this passionate night, he would stay with me afterwards, but once again he had managed to slip out of my embrace unnoticed.  
He had left one of his usual notes on the kitchen table.

 

_I have to research a bit, but I’ll contact you soon about yesterday._

  

Which was indeed what he did.  
A few days after this, I found him waiting outside one of the buildings above the ruins, where the administrative work took place. I had never told him where exactly I work, but he had somehow found the right house.  
Well, he did have friends working there too, after all.

 

He greeted me with a smile that could rival the sun in brightness and seemed to shine through the unusually clouded weather. I didn’t know why he would come to pick me up from work, but it made me happy. I hadn’t heard of him for a few days, just saw him from afar sometimes, never wanting to bark into his round of friends. I don’t even think they knew I existed.  
But he had come now, and it made me happy enough for my heart to nearly skip a beat.  
He waved at me from afar, easily distinguishable from everyone else by his hair, his posture, everything. Every little thing about Tokio was so deeply burned into my mind and heart that I would always, always recognize him.

 

To my surprise, he didn’t take me off the area.  
He went underground with me, into the actual ruins.  
I lacked the official permission to go there and was a little nervous as to what might happen if any of my superiors would realize I was down there, but Tokio just all laughed it off. I didn’t have to fear anything as long as I was with him, he said. I don’t even know why he could enter the mine. If there was one thing about him I knew for sure, it was that he didn’t work there.  
He introduced me to the leading researcher, Hideki Shibuya, a man of many disciplines.

 

The professor seemed very interested in our plans of trying to transfer a mark from one person to the other. According to him, this had never been done between members of differently marked bloodlines. I couldn’t say how much of what he talked about may be true or not, but he appeared very learned about all of this.  
He was also a doctor of medicine, as it turned out, and the one that would tend to me for many years to come. But even before my long sleep, he voiced his interest in me, someone who had never consciously apprivoised but still possessed a quite strong mark and first phase.  
He decided that it would be a good idea to run some medical tests beforehand, talking about how my first phase might be repressing my libido flow or something like that, which could potentially be dangerous. I didn’t understand a single word of it, but I was happy that the possibility of helping Tokio achieve his dreams got closer with every little step.

 

Tokio seemed very excited about all this too.  
Once this was all done, I decided, I would finally tell him about my feelings.

  

“What are _you_ doing here?”

 

I thought I knew this voice, and when I turned, I saw Tokio’s friend, Ryousuke.  
He wore an eyepatch I had never seen on him before, but remained silent on the circumstances that forced him to have it. With the one visible eye, he glared at Tokio.  
I had always thought it had been him who’d granted Tokio permission to enter the ruins, but it seemed I had been wrong. He apparently had no idea how he got in there either, and wasn’t very happy about the fact.

 

He didn’t seem very excited about Tokio’s plans either, if his looks when he revealed them were any indication. I don’t know how much Ryousuke had ever known.  
This was the first time I was introduced to one of Tokio’s friends in person; he laid one arm around me and looked very proud. He held me close, as if to signal that we belonged together.  
I was incredibly happy.

 

When we left arm in arm, he remarked how he wanted to be called by his pen name from now on.  
I wasn’t really keen on that, I must admit, because I really liked his birth name. But if it made him happy, I would go along with it.

 

After all, Tokio was my everything.


	4. Chapter 4

In the following days, I had to visit Doctor Shibuya at his other workplace, the island hospital, almost every day to undergo a whole lot of tests and examinations. He asked me questions over questions about my family, my first phase, my general physical condition and a whole lot of other things I could barely answer. He said it was normal for my body to react the way it did, not changing anymore, as this was apparently my first phase’s doing.  
I had always been smaller, always weaker, always less far than other children my age, all throughout my life. This is why my family had hated me, had shunned me out, has said I was weird. Then, when my mark suddenly had begun to surface, it all just became worse.  
They had abandoned me, thrown me away like a piece of trash. The fact that my father had found out that I liked men shortly before had not helped at all.  
Back then, after having been thrown out of the house, I had been so lonely, so desperate. I had feared it would only get worse as my life went on, I had thought I could stay a boy forever, because I had been afraid of what would come as a lonely adult.  
According to Doctor Shibuya, it is possible that this wish could have prompted my mark and first phase to fully surface even without apprivoising by myself. The mark was connected to a pretty strong Cybody, he said.

 

If that wish of mine back then had managed to come true all by itself to some extent, then, I hoped, it would be possible for my current wish to come true as well.  
I didn’t only want to help Tokio, I wanted to take my chance and become normal too.  
I didn’t want this stupid mark anymore. It had brought me nothing but tears.

 

On the other hand, I would have never been able to build up such a strong relationship to Tokio without it.

 

I deeply hoped it would be possible for me to keep it up after giving him what he wanted.  
I hoped he would then give me what I wanted, his love.

 

* * *

 

 

It had almost been a week since I had been in the ruins with Tokio when I went to the hospital again after work. The schedule was hectic like that, but Tokio made sure to visit me regardless. He also seemed to hang around the ruins more than before, I wondered if he actually still found the time to paint.  
I was happy with how things went on the one hand, but on the other hand, it was strange. Tokio seemed different from before, more focused. As far as I had seen, the air around him and his friends had not improved; Ryousuke would ignore him when they crossed paths at the old mine ever so often. But then later, I found them sitting together somewhere anyway, together with the young woman whose name I didn’t know.  
When the two of us were together, he still held me, kissed me, loved me, but it was somehow different. Our conversations focused on my mark a lot, how I progressed with the examinations and training and all. He had already planned procedures for the day I would be ready to give it to him.

 

I began to get the feeling his focus on me and my mark was what slowly drove his small circle of friends apart.  
I didn’t dare to ask him, though, because I didn’t want to destroy anything. I neither wanted to make the relationship between him and his friends worse than it already seemed, nor did I want to have him believe  
I didn’t want to give him my mark anymore.  
Somehow, I still couldn’t bring myself to telling him how I felt.

 

 

This feeling of uneasiness, the uncertainty about what was actually going on between Tokio and me occupied my mind more and more. Sometimes I could hardly concentrate.  
On one of these days where I barely watched my step as I walked, I crossed a young lady on my way to the hospital.  
We met on the small plaza in front of it, or rather, we bumped into each other. She was apparently as busy with other things as I was, and thus a little accident like this had been pretty much inevitable.  
Her shoulder collided with my arm, she lost her step and even though she didn’t fall, she lost the papers she had been carrying.

 

She was faster to apologize than me, and as I looked into her face to tell her that it was rather my fault than hers, I felt like I had seen her before. She was slightly younger than me from what I could tell, quite pretty and with the usual mysterious air that all islanders seemed to carry.  
As part of my apology – and because it’s just polite – I picked up the documents that has sprawled everywhere before her feet. I tried to not look at them too hard, as they were obviously hospital documents and none of my business, but I caught her name from one of them.  
I couldn’t see her family name, but her personal one was Sora. A really pretty name.  
There were also papers that indicated she was expecting a child.

 

“Congratulations”, I said to her as I handed her all the papers. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, it revealed I had read a little of her private stuff while gathering it all.  
She smiled, but it didn’t seem all too happy. Bitter, maybe, and a little sad. She sighed.  
“Thank you”, she answered after a short pause. “It’s still very early though. Maybe that gives me the time to think about what I can do…”  
I raised my eyebrows, she sounded as sad as she looked.  
“Don’t you want this child? Can’t you have it? I’m sure there’s a solution for everything.”  
I cursed myself in my mind, I shouldn’t have asked her such private things. But on the other hand, it made me a little sad she was sad about expecting a baby. Children are wonderful, I think, and in that moment I was rather painfully reminded of the fact that I would probably never have one.

 

“It’s not like I don’t want it”, she answered, “since the father is the man I love, but…”  
She looked down, sighed again, just barely audible. Her smile was bitter once more.  
“I just don’t think he’d want all this. Being a family and all… I mean, he hardly looks at me anymore. He’s an artist, he used to paint me a lot, you know, but now…”  
She looked up again, seemed a little embarrassed. She quickly scratched her cheek and fumbled with her long, brown hair, laughed the same way I would laugh in her position, when being unsure what to really say or do.  
“Ah, I’m really sorry. We don’t even know each other and I’m heaping all my love troubles upon you. Not to mention it’s pretty complicated…”  
When I said it was fine she just bowed and took her leave. I let her go without any further word, I was really not in the position to give her advice on her relationships, since my own – if it ever had been one to begin with – was rather complicated, too.

 

I watched as she left, saw her long hair and light dress dancing in the late summer breeze. She was really pretty and again I felt like I had seen her before.  
I thought about what she had told me. The man she loved was an artist, he used to paint her often…

 

My heart stopped.  
The longer I looked at her, the more a picture formed around her, one Tokio had drawn. The one I had seen him paint on the day of our first kiss. His friend, his muse.  
I swallowed, could hardly breathe.  
The man she loved was Tokio.

  

The rest of that day happened like in a dream, a bad one. I hardly noticed anything that was being discussed during the examination. Apparently, almost everything was ready for the mark transfer and Doctor Shibuya was quite excited.  
I wasn’t so much anymore. All I could think about was how Tokio was having a child with a woman who thought he didn’t love her. I began to understand the bad atmosphere I had noticed between them from afar and I realized this had started after Tokio had begun to spend more time with me.  
What if I was the reason he wouldn’t look at Sora anymore?

 

I should be happy, shouldn’t I?  
I had always wanted to take her place, I had been so jealous about how close they had been to each other. I hadn’t even realized how they had fallen apart because Tokio and I were getting closer.  
It seemed official now that I had him for myself, but at what kind of price? I had never wanted to take away an innocent child’s father. I had never wanted to destroy their friendship.  
I had never wanted it to become like that.

 

But then again, I loved Tokio, I loved him so much.

 

When I came back home, I received a call from Tokio, the first one ever.  
He had spoken to Doctor Shibuya and was very happy that very, very soon we would be able to do the transfer. He didn’t have time for me before that, he said, because of some preparations he had to make, but if everything went well, we could already do it the next day.  
I swallowed. This suddenly went so fast, way too fast for me. I would have preferred to take my distance from Tokio for a few days, to think about everything. It would never change the way I felt about him, but how I should proceed in dealing with Sora’s issues, which I felt were my fault.

 

But he took it for granted that I would be ready to do it the next day, he said I should rest and maybe even call in sick to be able to mentally (and maybe physically) prepare myself for the big event.  
He sounded so happy. I loved his cheerful tone, his obvious excitement.  
We talked for a little more – or rather, I listened to him chatting on and on about how we would finally both get what we wanted. We would end up on the road to a better future.  
I sat on the floor of my small living room, blanket around my legs, and just listened to Tokio for what seemed were hours. I didn’t talk much, I didn’t want to. It was just so nice to hear his voice full of glee and confidence.

 

Sometimes, my mind trailed off a little and I wondered if it was maybe a good time now to tell Tokio how I felt. But on the other hand, I thought, it would be nicer if I did it while looking into his eyes.  
That would be really romantic.

 

“I’ve got to hang up now”, I suddenly heard Tokio stating, bringing me back to reality. “There’s a night view picture I want to paint, so she’s coming over soon. Good night and see you tomorrow!”  
The phone line began producing sounds of vacancy before I could have even said goodnight to him. Not that I actually reacted that quickly in this moment; his last statement had brought back memories of what had happened earlier that day.  
I listened to the sounds of the phone as if trying to sooth myself, a hot, unpleasant feeling rising up in my stomach.  
Tokio probably didn’t even know. He surely didn’t know she was pregnant, and if she told him now, he might abandon me. Or would he not care? If so, he would abandon her and the baby.  
These were both possibilities I did not want to become reality. But there was nothing I could do about it.  
I clenched the earphone firmly. Maybe I was even shaking, I hardly remember.

 

 

Needless to say, I hardly slept that night. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind would play scenes to me that either made no sense at all or presented me with the thousands of possibilities as to how my current dilemma might end. Of course, none of these possibilities were really positive.  
In other moments, I remembered scenes of my childhood. From time to time I almost automatically reached for the spot on my chest where the mark would materialize. It didn’t come out that night, but I knew it was there, in one way or another, and couldn’t help but touching, even lightly scratching that place over and over again.  
I should be happy about my mark by now. It had brought me close to Tokio. But for obvious reasons, I couldn’t be happy anymore at all.

 

Most of the next day was not much better, I could hardly concentrate at work and would indeed take up Tokio’s advice about faking sickness. I left in early noon, but as it would not be a great idea to immediately go down into the ruins, I wandered around the town for a bit.  
I had no clue what to do as “preparation” and didn’t even feel like it. My thoughts only revolved around all that had happened the day before.  
I hadn’t even eaten anything yet, I just couldn’t. Everything was just so overwhelming.

 

At some point, I just stood there in the middle of the marketplace, staring up into the sky. I could see the faint outlines of the moon through the clear blue sky.  
Why? Why did I have to be among the people that had been blessed – or rather, cursed – by some beings from way up there? If this story was even true to begin with…  
I had never wanted anything of this. My mother had never wanted it. That’s why she had fled the island way before my birth.

 

And I had been stupid enough to come back here. I should have never done that.  
I remembered how I had been accused of being a freak, a monster, destroying the family. My father’s voice echoed in my head, and I began to think he had been right all the time. I had not only disturbed my own family’s order, now I was also in the process of breaking another one apart that had just been about to build up.  
I should have never come here.

 

I had been so stupid, so blind.  
All I had been seeing was Tokio, just focusing on how to make him mine, completely fixed on my own happiness without seeing others. Like a little child, I had wanted him for myself, not caring about anybody else around me.  
Without much thinking, my hand raised to that spot again, tears building up in the corners of my eyes. I breathed in deeply, tried not to cry or scream or panic. The more I thought about everything, the worse it got.  
I had been so stupid, so immature. My first phase had not only kept my body from growing up the way it was supposed to be, but also my mind. I was still a little, egoistic boy, and it hurt people around me.  
I didn’t want all this anymore.

 

As I kept staring into the sky, my head began to spin. I felt a warmth under my fingers, but it wasn’t my mark. The warmth trailed down my fingers and then my hand, the same spot on my chest burned and I felt more hot trails there. I didn’t have to look at them to know that my fingers were being painted red.  
I wanted to see Tokio, I wanted to talk to him, wanted to apologize to him for being so stupid, wanted to tell him about the child.  
But I also wanted him to embrace me, to be with me. Please, never leave me alone, you’re all I have.

 

The more I thought about it, the more my head spun. I could hardly keep my balance anymore, but I also hardly noticed this fact.  
Panic rose within me more and more with each new thought and they all came so quickly. I had hurt my family, I hurt Sora, Tokio, their child, everyone.  
I didn’t know what to do. Was giving him my mark really the right idea? I couldn’t tell anymore.  
All I knew was that I didn’t know where to go anymore, or what to do. I feared I would keep on hurting the people around me, or myself. Even though I hardly cared for myself at that point.

 

I felt sick, so sick.

 

When I wanted to move my feet to get away, somewhere, wherever, I couldn’t. I stumbled and fell, but hardly felt the stones under me at all. I might have been shaking, but I can’t really tell. My memory of these minutes is so hazy, everything happened like in a bad dream.  
In the end, darkness came.

 

It stayed with me for fifteen years.


	5. Epilogue

When I woke up, Tokio was there.

 

I didn’t realize that I had slept for so long, I had no idea it had been fifteen whole years. Only afterwards, I learned that my medical condition had essentially been a coma and I had been in hospital for years over years.

 

But I was so happy.  
My dreams had been weird and long, that was all I knew at that point, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Tokio and it made me happy. Whatever had happened in the past years, he had still come back to me, maybe not even had ever left my side.  
I wanted to tell him about my dream, ask him if it meant something, that long, long conversation I had with Synpathy. If I had had it at all. Maybe it had just been my mind playing tricks on me over all this time and my Cybody had never actually reached out for me, had been incapable of actual communication all the time. I didn’t know and I wanted to ask Tokio, but I couldn’t really put it into words.

 

In that situation – weak, disoriented, tired – it was easier for me to explain to him what else I had dreamed of, a fast forward throughout my life. I had relived everything during these years in bed, and it had hurt just as much as before.  
He asked me if I remembered our promise.  
Of course I did. But what if he would face the same fate as me if he took my mark?  
He said he was alright, as long as he got it. I wasn’t in the position to argue. All I could think was that he had taken care of me all the time while I had been ill, he had been there for so many years and fulfilling our promise, I thought, was the least I could do as a token of my gratitude.  
In fact, I couldn’t actively think that far in this moment, my brain still worked too slowly after just waking up from this long slumber. But I remembered what I had promised him and I saw the excitement, the need in his eyes, so there was no room for me to decline.  
Everything was fine as long as it made him happy.

 

I gave him my mark.  
For the first time in my life, the warmth this thing produces felt good, it felt so nice under my hand when it was glowing on Tokio’s chest.  
He was so close to fulfill his dream, he proclaimed, and I had gotten mine. A long, splendid dream he called it and that was exactly how imagined it. Thinking I might also be able to live it together with him, just us two, was something I couldn’t really do at that moment, being too overwhelmed by all my feelings, but it was what I was subconsciously hoping for.

 

At that moment, I had no idea what Tokio’s dream really was about, and how he would try to achieve it.

 

I only learned that he had no regard for other people’s lives a few hours later, when Zero Time broke apart and I, unfrozen together with the rest of the world, witnessed the ascension of a being that was dark as the night sky, seeming to devour the Earth.  
From the faint memories my Cybody had left for me, I knew that this was a thing that should have never released, something that should have been confined in the depths of Zero Time for all eternity.  
Samekh.

Just as I had whispered its name against the window I was pressing to, watching in both horror and fascination, darkness came again.  
Samekh drowned the planet’s collective libido during its flight into the night sky, and I died together with the rest of humanity.

 

* * *

 

 

When I awoke again, I had no idea what had just happened, or how.  
But I didn’t die. Or I came back to life.  
I still don’t really know.

 

It was way past midnight when I had managed to rearrange myself. Whatever had happened, it had left a considerable strain on my body, which wasn’t very strong to begin with, considering I had just woken up from a very long sleep.  
It might take me years to fully recover, Doctor Shibuya told me once.

 

I used the huge water tank Tokio had in his house like a mirror to look at myself. I had always been quite thin, had had problems building up muscle mass, but even taking the curvature of the tank into account, I looked terrible right now.  
I turned and saw how long my hair had gotten, I hadn’t even realized this until that moment. This was the only thing about my change I could come to maybe like, even though it was a little too long to be practical. But it surely wasn’t as bad as the rest of my ghostly figure.

 

 

Then Tokio came back.  
He looked terrible and I had no real idea what to do or say. I was happy, but on the other hand I wasn’t. I still loved him deeply, despite of what he had done or what he would say to me. I had begun to understand that he had never loved me back.  
Not that I cared in that moment as I took him into my arms, hoping I could overwrite whatever bad had happened to him in the hours before.

 

He stayed with me for the rest of the night.  
The next day, however, he disappeared.

 

He just left the island telling nobody where he would go. Not even Ryousuke knew anything about his plans. He was just gone.  
I was allowed to stay in his house, as I had no place for myself anymore, but other than that, I was left with nothing.

 

Tokio is gone now and I have no idea where.  
I am waiting for him to return, but everyone has expressed doubts he ever would. Many even hoped he would never come back.  
But I, I am desperately waiting for him to come back. And if it turns out he never will, I am going to set out into the world to find him. I know he is not really the person I had thought he was, I know I am of no importance to him.  
But still, I just can’t stop loving him. He has done so much for me.

 

No matter where he is, I will find him. And when he comes back here, I will be here too.  
I can’t be without him.

 

Tokio is all I have.

 

**FIN**


End file.
